Angel in a Coffee Shop
by mimithereader
Summary: Stisaac prompt: Stiles does not mean to spill the cute guy's coffee order but really it's not his fault that the guy looks like an angel problem is his boss might not see it that way which means he has to convince the cute guy that complaining about him is not a good idea with awkward flirting


_Holy hell_ Stiles thinks when he sees the boy walking in to the coffee shop. Stiles stared unashamedly, taking in the tall and lithe body, the long legs in those almost too-tight jeans, the defined cheekbones, the lusciously curly hair…

"Can I get an iced mocha frappuccino?"

…and god those _lips_…Shit. How long had he been staring?

Well, judging by the look on the cute guy's face, it's certainly been too long.

"Um, sorry?" Stiles says, prompting Isaac to repeat his order.

Smirking, Isaac responds, "Iced mocha frappuccino."

"Amy, iced mocha frapp," Stiles ordered the girl standing behind him. She rolled her eyes and shot him an annoyed look, but acquiesced in making the order anyway. Good. That gave Stiles the chance to stare longingly at the cute boy who was examining the cd display and leaning against the counter.

"Think you can get your mind out of the gutter long enough to give the boy you're staring at his order?" Amy whispered to Stiles sassily, handing him the drink.

"Here you go," Stiles said as he extended his arm towards the boy.

And _wow_ the boy's eyes are _amazing_. Stiles doesn't think he's ever seen someone look so _perfect_ -

And damn Stiles's clumsy feet. He only had to take a step, just _one_ step, and he _still_ manages to trip over himself, letting go of the drink before catching himself on the counter. The lid comes off, the cup flying and liquid splashing all over the customer.

The boy jumps back, not quickly enough, and the cup lands on the floor. His sweater is soaked along with his scarf – and, seriously, why is he even _wearing_ a scarf?! The boy doesn't look at Stiles as he pulls the scarf off from around his neck.

"At least it was an ice coffee, right?" Stiles jokes and he regrets it immediately when the boy looks at him utterly shocked.

And maybe this boy should learn to take a joke, but _oh shit_ Stiles _cannot_ afford another customer complaint, not after so recently having his ass busted by his boss for intentionally misspelling names so teenage girls couldn't Instagram pictures of their cups. No, Stiles needs to make sure this boy doesn't complain.

Stiles leans over the counter and holds out a handful of napkins for the boy to take before walking around the counter himself to help. And by help Stiles meant blatantly feel the boy up as he attempted to blot his coffee-soaked sweater. The boy stares at Stiles's hands, still pressed to his abs, before raising an eyebrow and meeting Stiles's eyes. Stiles pulls away quickly, internally berating himself for being such a moron. Obviously he shouldn't molest a customer after spilling coffee on him. Then again, the boy hadn't looked mad…just a little surprised.

This could work, Stiles could handle this.

"I am so sorry! Like, really, unbelievably sorry," Stiles rushed out.

Isaac stared at him for a moment longer before going back to blotting his sweater.

"I'm Stiles, by the way," Stiles said, trying to regain the boy's attention.

The boy didn't show any sign he'd heard Stiles. But Stiles wasn't one to give up easily.

"I've worked here for almost six months now and I've never spilled a drink," Stiles tried again. When that didn't work, he continued, "I haven't seen you here before. I'm here most days."

Still nothing.

"Work lots of hours…I'm usually here until 10:00. Tomorrow my shifts only until 8:30 though…" Stiles says as unsubtly as humanly possible. "No plans, either. Friday night, getting off early, and no plans," – still nothing – "not hanging out with friends…or a _boyfriend_…" Stiles tries.

He cannot get fired, he has rent to pay, so he goes for broke.

"Maybe I could, uh, make it up to you? Like, buy you a coffee or dinner or a movie or something?"

The boy finally – _finally – _looked at him.

"…Are you asking me out?" the boy asked incredulously, causing Stiles to blush brightly.

Stiles gave the boy his best smile and looked up at him through his long eyelashes, trying to subtly bat them. But, being Stiles, it probably looked more like uncontrollable eye twitching.

"Um, trying to. You know, if you're, uh, into that. Or not. I could just, um, give you some money or something if you'd prefer. I - "

"Okay."

"…Okay to going out with me or okay to me giving you money?"

"Tomorrow. 8:30. I pick the restaurant, you pay."

"…so both, then."

The boy smiles, turning, about to walk away.

"Wait! You didn't tell me your name!"

The boy pauses briefly and looks back over his shoulder before saying, "Isaac."

_Isaac. _Stiles smiles brightly because there could not be a more fitting name for this angelic looking boy.

"You might want to clean that up," Isaac laughed, gesturing towards the spilled liquid still all over the floor.

Isaac headed for the door laughing, leaving Stiles to stare after him in disbelief.

Just before Isaac can get out of earshot, Stiles yells out indignantly, "Loose the scarf!"


End file.
